Unbroken Love

Chapter Three

The first moments after waking are always the most disorientating moments of ones life. It's hard to understand who is who and what is what and why am I lying on a bed in a room I don't think I've ever saw before? And who is the man with the grizzly beard talking angrily with Brandon. Brandon. Angry stubble was buzzed around his own face and his hair was dishevelled - or should I say more so than usual. I wasn't sure if he was always this attractive or whether it was only this ridiculous headache that made him seem so.

"Could you both tone it down? I think my face is going to explode." My voice was scratchy in my throat and sounded more manly than normal. Grizzly beard didn't appreciate being spoke to like this,  but something about the way Brandon looked at him seemed to tell him it was a battle not worth fighting.

My eyes were finally beginning to take things in and I was become aware again. "What the hell am I wearing?" An oversized smiths shirt and loose navy pyjama bottoms. "Where they hell did these come from? Where are my clothes?"

"Calm down princess, ye can have your own blood and vomit stained clothes back to wear now or ye can appreciate what ye have!" Grizzly beard sounded vaguely Scottish.

Brandon had a small smirk on his face, which was slowly raising my blood pressure. "Right, well this was fun and all, but I best get going, my mom will want to know where I am." Lame excuse, I know.

"Some mother she is" Had I not been focusing on his breathing, his posture, his face, him, so much, I wouldn't have heard it but he said it. Or did he? I wasn't sure. It was so quiet the breeze in the room swallowed it whole and I could never be sure but I met his eyes and I saw it - he knew. He knew more than he had heard in school yesterday. My head felt fuzzy, as if, as I had slept they had opened my skull and stirred its contents with a fork.

"I don't really recall - did I drive here or do I need to call I cab home?" My voice sounded faint in the room, bringing a stark contrast with the tense atmosphere.

"You're not driving anywhere for a while for two reasons, your head is so messed right now that it wouldn't be morally correct for me to let you drive, and also, your car is still at the supermarket." Supermarket was the key word - tires on asphalt,  the pain, I remembered. "I got hit by a fucking car!" I yelled instinctively. Both Brandon and Grizzly beard's eyebrows shot up. "Who the hell ran me over?!" Livid was an understatement. Grizzly beard however was now grinning - or so I think, it was hard to see his mouth below the hair.

"Now, Lily, this Is hard to explain." Brandon began. "You weren't looking and I-I,"

I lunged of the bed at him and knocked him back with sheer surprise. I melted slightly when I collided with his muscular physique but this did not annihilate my anger. I began slapping at his chest violently, streaming out lists of profanities that would have a drunken sailor cringing.

"Lily!" He was not yelling, but commanding, he knew he needed me calm. His hands formed manacles around my wrists and he rolled over so I was no longer straddling him, but he was straddling me, with my hands pinned beside my face. I began crying, sobbing hysterically and he didn't understand why. My mother will have woke with no more alcohol and may or may not be sober. When I get home she will beat me until she draws a vicious amount of blood - or hears my bones crack and break. I was scared. "Micah, get out." He said gently, but forceful.

"It's still night, she might still be asleep, if Brandon gets off me, I can still get some and get home." I begin babbling and pushing him off me.

"Ye sure ye don't need me?" Micah - grizzly beard did look like a Micah - looked slightly panicked. Teenage girls obviously weren't his forte.

"Out!" Brandon roared. Micah left without  further prompting.

"Get OFF me!" I yelled. "Fine!" He yelled back, slamming my wrists against the flooring. "Why the hell should I show any interest in your well-being? You're pathetic." and with that, he stood up, his face a blank canvas, faintly showing glimpses of fury.

"I need to change." My voice was quiet. He opened one of the closest drawers to him and fished out a pair of jeans, in the smallest size he had. "Keep the clothes, just get out." He spat. He turned his back, as if to give me privacy, but without a second glance at the jeans, or him, I jumped up and fled the room, feeling completely numb.

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My entire core stung, from some gigantic emotional bitch-slap. I finally found my way out of that house and I had absolutely no idea of where I was. I was just so sleepy, I sat down on the front step of the door. 

scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired  hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt scared weak tired hurt 

That's all I was. I was tired too. Too tired. I lay my head on the dry, hard pavement. So tired. 

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Brandon's POV.

I was livid. At myself or her? I still wasn't sure. Where would she go, she doesn't know this place, doesn't  know where she is? She might get lost or mugged or hurt - or worse. I should at least get her somewhere safe but not back to that god forsaken woman she still calls a mother. No Brandon. This isn't your problem, leave it. You shouldn't have even saved her in the first place. Could I ever tell her I didn't really run her over? She didn't need the fear of it hanging over her, she was save, we were watching her now. I had to go to sleep because it was never this complicated when I slept.

She was always there - happy to see me. Not tonight.